


The List

by jer832



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Eventual Sex, F/M, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, Matchmaker TARDIS, POV The Doctor (Doctor Who), Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jer832/pseuds/jer832
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor goes to his room to work on the list he'd been making as he weighed all the reasons to take Rose Tyler home for good against his reasons to keep her on the TARDIS with him. The TARDIS helps him decide what to do about his young new companion - in her own inimitable way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The List

**Author's Note:**

> I can't tell if the formatting of the two columns actually took. It looks fine to me; but when I download the story, the columns are out of alignment. I am checking this out. I'd really appreciate it if someone lets me know what they see, especially if it IS an unreadable mess. Thanks for your patience.

  
The List

 

 

The TARDIS had thrown him out of the control room and then the kitchen. Rose was sleeping. So the Doctor went to his room to work on the list he'd been making as he weighed all the reasons to take Rose Tyler home for good against his reasons to keep her on the TARDIS with him. He closed the door and after a second's consideration locked it. Then he toed off his boots with a hedonic grunt, stretched and flexed his long feet, and wiggled his toes. He didn't take off his leather jacket.  He kept the heavy old thing on most all the time now. With Rose around, it seemed prudent not to be walking around the TARDIS in just jeans and jumper, even though he was terribly uncomfortable in the solarium and night-blooming gardens, and by the pool watching Rose swim, and there was that one night last month when hiding out in that old boiler room wasn't the easy-peasy escape it was supposed to be, and just the other day-  Ah.  One more thing for column 1.

  
He sat down at his desk, opened a drawer, and took out the much-amended list and an old lead pencil he'd worried halfway to a stub.  Realizing that even looking at the list would only get him suckered into another editing loop, he decided to start over.  He'd write just what came into his mind, keep writing until it was finished, and not for any reason go back and recheck anything.  He crumpled the paper, tossed it into the garbage, and pulled a clean sheet out of the drawer. This was it, he vowed, no more procrastinating.    

 

____________________________________________________                                        _______________________________________________

  _ **WHY I SHOULD TAKE ROSE TYLER HOME  NOW**  _                                               _ ** ~~WHY I SHOULD KEEP ROSE WITH ME~~**_

___________________________________________________  
                                                                                                                             _ **REASONS NOT TO TAKE ROSE HOME**_

                                                                                                                            _______________________________________________

 

  
_1\.  Rose has no respect for the clever and superior being_                                       _1. Rose is in awe of what I can show her_  
_ that I am_

 

Until the moment he died for good, he’d remember Rose’s words that night they met Charlie Dickens. _You can go back and see days that are dead and gone and a hundred thousand sunsets ago... no wonder you never stay still._   She got it. His Rose got it!

Well...

She wasn’t his Rose - and he still hadn't decided which column that little fact belonged in. He mentally tossed a coin, didn’t care for the way it came up, and tossed it again. No, it still didn’t look right. He stared out at nothing, or maybe at a footprint on a snow-kissed street in 1869 Cardiff, then he wrote:

    

_2. She is not **MY** Rose                                                                                            2.  **S he is NOT my Rose**. _  
_ I have NO REASON to expect her to stay.                                                             There is NO GOOD REASON to rush to take her home now. _

    _2A. Maybe I should take her home before she asks to leave_.                                 _2A.  I just won't let myself become attached to her_.                                                                                                                                      

 

That would have to do. Get on with it, he told himself.   

 

_3\. She always ridicules me & says I’d be lost without her                                       3. I’d be lost without her_

_4\. She argues with my decisions                                                                             4. She challenges me to defend my decisions _

  
He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.  After the Time War he'd told himself that if he kept from becoming vested in any kind of future, he wouldn't have to think about the past.  He’d made a point of bouncing haphazardly from one ephemeral unconnected present to the next. Yet he had come to find himself actually looking forward to his tomorrows, to the thrill of the next adventure with Rose, their next bit of trouble.  Speaking of which, he really should plan their adventures better.  Well, ok, he should at least have some idea what he was getting them into.  Because if Rose ever got hurt or -

 

_ 5. Rose never listens to me _

_ 6. She always runs off and then I have to go rescue her _

_~~7. She gets into trouble~~    XXXXXXX _ ** _Rose Tyler is a trouble magnet!  XXXXXXXXX_**                                                  

 

Maybe once or twice or so he was the one who'd wandered off and gotten lost or taken. There'd been times he didn't know how she'd found him, even a time or two he might have been a goner if she hadn't gotten to him in time. To be fair he should at least acknowledge it.

 

                                                                                                                             _5. Rose Tyler is resourceful and brave!_

 

 "So brave!  Well.  All right, then; what else do I have?"

                                                                                                                             _6\. We get into great adventures & have the most fun!_

                                                                                                                             _7. Rose Tyler makes me feel alive! not just a broken  _  
_ sad old Time Lord too stupid to stay dead_

                                                                                                                        _8. ROSE'S HAND IN MY HAND   _

_ 9\.  My Rose is SO soft & warm and when she HUGS me_

 

~~~~"Hmm."  He read his list over carefully. Then once again. Then twice again. Then he went back and crossed out numbers 8 and 9.  That made him feel better.  And worse.  Then he told himself it wasn't his fault. Cos he'd just realized...

 

_ 8\. Rose Tyler has no concept of personal space _   
_**ABSOLUTELY NONE**_

_**       not a bloody clue!______ ** _

   

 

Maybe she was too young… not too young, exactly, just not an experienced enough traveler to understand.  You never knew what taboos you might be violating, what trouble you could just have gotten yourself and your companion into, if an alien ambassador or tyrant or curious deciduous socialite you'd just met saw the two of you rubbing against each other, that is your _hands_ rubbing. It didn't matter how innocent it actually was, sometimes Rose could be-- it wasn't suggestive, really, unless, but now that he thought about it, once she'd gotten the xenophobia jitters out of her system Rose always followed his lead and acted just fine around alien trees and zombies and giant murdering mealy worms and the like. In fact, she'd grown into the best ambassador for humankind he'd been around in a long time. That girl of his could see beyond superficial differences to find what was good inside people, and what was a bit gamey. It seemed as if sometimes they got into trouble enough just stepping out of the TARDIS. He'd hate to think how fast things could get even more dicey if she began to act inappropriately with him the way she did on the streets of London with Mickey the idiot, but now that he thought about it, he'd never seen her be suggestive or inappropriate with Mickey. He never saw her get all clingy and grippy, entwining fingers like they were vines or limbs. He never saw her get into Mickey's personal space the way she did with him.

_With him_ … Yeah, sometimes it felt as if Rose was intentionally crowding him. And sometimes he was at a loss to figure any reason beyond it just came to her to do it to him.  He, on the other hand, always had valid reasons to do it when he did it to her. When he opened the TARDIS doors to start them on an adventure, he'd extend his hand to her because it was an Earth politeness thing; and then he'd have to hold onto his jeopardy-friendly companion to keep her from wandering off. Those times he needed them to pretend they were a couple, they had to _act_ like a couple to maintain the charade. That was all it was.  And obviously when he sniffed trouble, he had to keep Rose close so she wouldn't be abducted by some unsavory characters. And after they'd been through one of their near-death adventures, they really needed to chill. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him extending his hand to her at that time, a friendly gesture between two mates who'd just saved a planet and were ready to go for chips.  He'd never intentionally crowd Rose's personal space for any inappropriate reason.  It was all a tactical necessity, or him being a gentleman, or an automatic reaction that just happened, like when his palm slid down hers as if it was gliding over satin and her fingers wrapped around his and squeezed, and his squeezed a little tighter and she smiled and shoulder-checked him, and then he squeezed her to get her to stop and she put her head against his shoulder, and now that he thought about it …  No, he really didn't think he should think about it.

Rose couldn't know what her skin felt like against his, or that one touch infused his whole body with her warmth. Would she understand why seeing her smile was like watching a planet come to life?  Would she understand why she had made him believe there might be a reason to go on?  Could she understand?  If he told her… no, but if she knew, if she thought about it…  What would she think about him? 

 

_9\. Rose Tyler doesn't think things through_    

                            

Rose didn't see all the dangers in the cosmos, only the beauty.  She was headstrong and incautious and jeopardy friendly. She'd grown up wild and undisciplined, and if she went off and got herself hurt in spite of his instructions, it would be that bloody woman's fault. Jackie should have taught Rose better, she-   Ah!

 

_ 10\. Jackie Tyler _

 

“Jackie Tyler… ”  He threw his pencil down so hard it bounced twice.  “That stupid ape slapped me!”  He jumped up, knocking his chair over. He turned up his collar, crammed his fists into his jacket pockets, and started to pace. He ignored the chair except to kick it once or twice and otherwise make sure he didn't trip over it as he stomped by.   

“Jackie Tyler slapped me… slapped _ME_?  I wouldn’t put it past that drunken _nutter_ to try it again the very next time I bring Rose back for a visit—just cos she’s Jackie Tyler, no other reason needed. No respect for a Time Lord, that woman! And no healthy fear of dangerous hostile aliens.”

He strode back to his desk and stared down at the name of his greatest nemesi-- at the name of Rose's mum, that is to say.  Then he righted his chair and threw himself into it.

“I should put her in a time lock,” he muttered darkly.  “I'll age her until she’s stuck in a wheelchair and can’t lift a hand to slap for the life of her.”  He slumped down against the chair back.  Nah, he couldn't do that, it would upset Rose, Jackie being her mum 'n all. But there was one thing he could do, and he'd be justified!   “I’ll put a mauve alert above the Powell Estate!” he decided. "No, around the whole bloody planet!"  

He pulled himself up, picked up the pencil and went back to his list. 

 

**_11\. MAUVE ALERT: JACKIE TYLER_**    

                                                              

That was something all advanced cultures would understand. The Shadow Proclamation, the Judoon… the Brigadier.  He felt minimally better, felt himself more inclined to think calmly, rationally, and objectively.

                                       

                                                                                                                             _8\. Rose Tyler’s hand on my cheek._

 

Well, he had to put that down, didn’t he? He was making an honest, objective list, and that was definitely something that didn’t fit in the first column. Oh, and before he forgot about it, wasn't he was going to add- 

 

_ 12\. My clothes are always uncomfortable because of Rose Tyler  _

 

He stared down at number 12... stared at it a while. That just COULDN'T be what he'd been thinking before?  He chewed the pencil, grimaced and spit out a piece of the point.  If he were being honest, which he was supposed to be doing, even if what it sounded like wasn't what he'd meant, there was possibly a good reason not to remove it from column 1.

 

_13\. Domestics _

_14\.  Mickey the Idiot_

 

“Sex!” the Doctor roared, bounding up to his feet again and knocking over the chair again.  “Rose Tyler wants to have sex!.”

The TARDIS chimed effusively.  

He glowered up at the ceiling. “Don’t you dare!”  The TARDIS gave him the raspberries. And then a box of chocolate-flavoured condoms and a bottle of banana-flavoured lubricant, both of which he slammed into the garbage.  But it was clear to both of them that Rose wanted a physical relationship with a man. The way she ran after all those pretty boy stupid apes who-- 

 

_ 15. Rose always brings back the most useless ~~men~~  boys _

 

“Can’t she see how special she is?” he asked the TARDIS.  The TARDIS gave him a commiserating mew of concern. The old girl was growing to love Rose Tyler, maybe almost as much as h-he slapped his hand on the desk. "She's so much more than all they could ever be!"  

Rose wanted sex. And that way she looked at him sometimes, when she thought he wouldn’t notice. Oh, it was getting harder and harder to pretend he didn't notice.

 

                                                                                                                            _~~9\. If~~ ~~I gave her any encouragement, she’d fall into my arms.~~_  
                                                                                                                                  _ ~~I KNOW she would~~._

 

"The teenaged human female is a hormone cocktail asking to be shaken by any willing bartender.  And this Gallifreyan's bar is off-limits to Rose Tyler!"  

The TARDIS asked a question.  

"What?  No!  I just meant I'd stand my ground."  He picked up the chair, again, and sat back down, wondering with a loud sigh when standing his ground had degenerated into making lists and throwing furniture.  Some Oncoming Storm he was. 

  
_16\.  Rose Tyler wants sex. I don’t. _

_ 17\.  I am a Time Lord. We don’t DO sex _

_ 18\.  Never with companions _

_ 19\.  Certainly not with apes _

_ 20\. Definitely not with 19 year old apes _

_ 21\. NOT WITH ROSE TYLER!! _

 

Rassilon, where was the stanchion between weakness and strength? 

 

**_JACKIE TYLER - #22_ **

**_ JACKIE TYLER - #23 _ **

**_ JACKIE TYLER - #24 _ **

 

He grimaced. "Ah, there’s something to kill any man’s ardor."  

When Rose looks at me, he wondered at the TARDIS, does she see a man or just a strange old alien wearing a man-type getup?  The TARDIS replied, but he couldn't quite understand.

Stretching back in the chair, he straightened his legs under the desk and checked out this body he'd been stuck with, suddenly curious how Rose would see it. He had to push the chair back a good bit so that his feet didn't kiss the wall, and his shoulders came up higher than the back of the chair even leaning back like he was.  Hmm.  He had a lean torso, rather long and lanky but nice and wiry, aesthetic to the eyes even- the arms too.  Long legs with good muscles, efficient for running, though it was hard sometimes to fit their length comfortably into the spaces he got into. He wiggled the toes inside the socks; five and five.  He didn't remember anything obvious about his feet one way or the other except that they were larger than his last pair. The slender hands were rather large this regeneration as well. Still, the hands and feet did fit the package.  

The TARDIS whistled at him.  No, he only meant… It wasn't...  Did they _**really**_ say that?  His eyes moseyed north from his feet, along the tight jeans that didn't hide the definition of nicely-toned calves, or the muscular thighs, or the significant bump that hinted at the impressive length of his-  

"Well old girl, now that you mention it," he drawled.  His eyes shot back up to the ceiling. "But I don’t want Rose to think of me as a man... with all the... equipment and working parts, right?"  

He glared up at the ceiling.  She was a deaf old thing when she wanted to be. "RIGHT???" he shouted. He got another raspberry. If the TARDIS realized she could appear a tongue, he thought very carefully and quietly, she’d be sticking it out at him right now.  She could be such a tease, with that tongue, and that bright-eyed grin, and-   Oh.  

 

_25. Rose’s smile_                                                                                                     _9\.  Rose’s smile._

 

No, that wasn’t right. This two-column thing was confusing.  It had to be a human invention. Time Lords never needed to make columns to get things right in their heads.  And this numbering thing had somehow gotten away from him with the Jackie factoring in.  He scratched out both number 25 in the first column and number 9 in the second column.  And just so the TARDIS was clear on what facts went where, he put in column headings again.

 

 _________________________________________________                                             __________________________________________________

**REASONS** **TO TAKE ROSE BACK TO EARTH**                                                                 **REASONS TO KEEP HER HERE**

_________________________________________________                                              __________________________________________________ 

 

 

_26\.  Rose uses her smile to get what she wants  
       if I don't give in to her right off_

 

"Rose Tyler can be one persistent little human. If she wants to stay, she'll do everything she can think of to convince me to let her stay. She'd probably end up proving, somehow, that the best thing for me would be to let her stay."

He pictured a face-off with a stubborn Rose Tyler intent on getting her way. Did she realize that all she ever really had to do was just turn her smile on him… that special smile, the one that melted his gloomiest disposition and made him smile, made him want to do everything he could to make her happy, made him putty in her hands. "Yeah, no matter what I decide, ultimately I would let her stay if she asked."  He knew as clearly as he'd ever known anything that it was more than Rose fighting dirty. Rose's smiles imprinted her on his soul just as surely as her foot had imprinted on that Cardiff winter.  "I will."

He looked up at the ceiling again. "So, you think it should be in both columns, then."

The TARDIS hummed back at him.

"Bollocks."

 

                                                                                                                              _10\. Rose will use her smile to get what she wants._

_  I will give in to her_

 

"I will, won't I?" the Doctor asked his ship.  Figuring he was being rhetorical, the TARDIS didn't reply.  

"Discovering this, _uh_ , weakness in me, well that's… yes, that is a surprise.  But it's a good thing… really… no honestly, you just have to look at it right. I knew from the first that Rose would make it hard, but I'd never expected it this hard. No, I can't quantify it for you, but I tell you, girl, Rose makes it significantly harder than anyone I've ever met could do. She has a knack."  He shook his head in a kind of awe and fear and admiration.  "And she doesn't even break a sweat while she's about it. What?  Tell you how long- between us, I can't even guess.  It feels like I've always been like this and it's going to keep on until I explode." He sighed. "At least now I'll always be ready for her."

The TARDIS made a sound that was disturbingly like a snort.

"What?" 

She played back what he'd just said then transposed it into the semantics of Earth slang for him. She was unusually explicit for her, and she provided embarrassingly realistic visual aids.  She followed _that_ up with a very short and very pithy lesson on Freudian slips and the approach/avoidance conflict. Then she appeared another box of condoms, extra-extra-extra large. Being a responsible Time Lord of nine hundred plus years who took neither psychology nor semantics seriously except when he could use them to confound his enemies, which as far as he could tell Rose Tyler wasn't, he did not write anything that even vaguely suggested  _ANY_ of _THAT_ in either column.

He decided he should get to the repairs asap.  Otherwise they could be stuck in the vortex for hours. Or, he could do something monumentally stupid and wrong. He opened the desk drawer, put the list and pencil in, and closed the drawer. He thought a good ten seconds.  Then he pulled them back out.

He wrote quickly. He wrote fitfully. He wrote in Gallifreyan, and even so he didn't half scribble. He wrote it in the left column and then again in the right column.  He would never say it out loud and certainly in Rose's language, surely not ever to her. Then he slowly wrote in large bold print that took up both columns.

  

                                                            **I'LL HURT YOU  ROSE  I'LL GET YOU KILLED**

**LEAVE ME NOW. YOU WILL LIVE A LONGER LIFE**

**ONE DAY I WILL HAVE TO CHOOSE NOT TO SAVE YOU**

 

He stared at the paper for a long time.  "So that's it, then," he told the TARDIS. "This time it's really done.  It's over.”

The TARDIS was silent.

He was tired, but the repairs really shouldn't be put off any longer. He put the finished list back into the drawer and locked it and sonicked the lock. Rose had never been in his room, but you never could be too—

Small human hands grabbed his jacket lapels and twisted him away from his desk along with his desk chair. Rose's mouth come down on his.

Rose's lips were just like Rose, he decided- sweet, self-assured, persistent, and braver than he. He opened his mouth to question, or protest or something, and Rose slipped her tongue in. He barely had time to think that it was like Rose too- spirited, challenging, hot and resourceful and thoroughly impossible to deny - before every word he knew melted together into one giant lump that stuck to the inside of his head. Every word except her name, which he breathed into the sweet heat of her mouth and whispered over the full of her face like an answer he'd been searching for and still didn't believe he'd found. He covered her throat with it, lay it like a mantle over her shoulders. He brought it back to her lips in a song of joyful concession, theme and variations on desire.

He pulled Rose onto his lap.  Her hands slipped inside the heavy leather jacket that had been totally useless as a defense against her after all. She pushed the jacket off his shoulders, pushed his jumper up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer … body against body, skin to skin… And thanks in part to that nothing bit of thin cotton Rose called a sleep shirt, there was a substantial amount of her naked skin up against an uncanny amount of his. He decided that no one could ever give him a more persuasive reason to shuck his U-boat captain look. 

Bending close, he cupped Rose's face, holding her still as he brushed his lips over hers. He gazed down at her, watching her watch him. He shrugged his jacket off. Wrapping his hands around her hips, he lifted her up onto her knees atop his thighs, bringing her lips to a more efficient height for his. Her hands slipped under his jumper again, this time pushing it up to his armpits, and buttressed her against his chest. He kissed Rose properly, thoroughly, and quite impressively. And he discovered that hands longer and larger this regeneration were fantastic for exploring the curves and hillocks of Rose's stomach and hips, caressing and cupping Rose's arse, and encompassing Rose's breasts.

He heard a noise behind them, a click and then a muted pop. He stopped kissing Rose and listened. He didn't hear anything more and the TARDIS didn't seem concerned, so he went back to kissing Rose. At least he tried to go back to kissing Rose but she pulled away.

Losing Rose's clever lips and clever hands, the warmth and pressure of her body, was like losing the _fact_ of Rose. He stared at her in confusion, ready to throw at her everything he'd put in column 2.

She stretched around behind him. He heard the desk drawer squeak open, heard paper ripping… once, twice, again, and again. Then Rose was back in his arms with a handful of confetti and that smile.

He watched Rose without a word as she finished the job of removing his jumper, He flowed out of his chair, hefting her effortlessly with hands that had been made the absolutely perfect size this time around, and her legs wrapped around him. He eased her sleep top up over her head and arms, and off.  She wrestled his belt open, then her hands moved down to his zipper.

 

 

 

.

  



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